You can’t keep a good tree down - Stephanie Percival
One of the Top 24 submissions in our 2022 Urban Tree Festival writing competition.
You Can’t Keep a Good Tree Down
The planning application states, it’s just a tree: —but that misses the point. Originally it stood on open countryside, witnessing history unfold. Two world wars and centuries earlier soaking up blood of fallen Roundheads and Cavaliers. It stands resilient, stretching out branches, a place for birds and insects. Its canopy replacing oxygen and when leaves fall, nourishing the ground. A continual cycle of loss and renewal.
I’d observed the tree over my many years, through the bedroom window of the family cottage. Now that same view is red brick. Buildings and concrete merge into countryside. There’s a cycle-walkway winding through expanding development. Every day as I approach, my breathing eases as I’m embraced by greener air surrounding the tree. It’s bounded by stakes of iron with notices, ‘Keep Out.’ We sigh about the news, world events, our troubled times. Scooters whizz by, dogs pause and lift legs on spreading roots which won’t be constrained. Crevices have appeared on the paving. I tell the tree there’s an application to remove it.
Before the felling order is issued, another war intervenes. Houses, completely destroyed. Piles of bricks, plaster and dust everywhere. My cottage has cracks and water trickling down the walls.
After another night of bombing, I look through smashed glass, see branches again. I hobble to the tree, stumbling over fractured tarmac. The tree stands mighty amidst the man-made destruction, budded branches reaching out, roots escaping the damaged barrier, offspring shooting through fissures. Preparing to green the world again.
Stephanie Percival
Steph Percival’s work has been shortlisted and won several creative writing competitions. With an oak tree behind her new garden, she feels she’s arrived home.
